“Oh, that isn’t necessary, Hepsey. And it might 236 set people talkin’. But if you won’t move your sittin’-room to the other side of your own house, why don’t you move it over to my house? You wouldn’t see so much of the red paint then.”
Hepsey snorted and spluttered in baffled rage.
“Now, now, Hepsey,” soothed Jonathan, “if that don’t suit you, I’ll tell you what I’ll do: I’ll paint it over myself on one condition!”
“And what’s that, I’d like to know?”
“That you’ll marry me,” snapped Jonathan hungrily.
Instead of resenting such bold tactics on the part of her suitor, Mrs. Burke gazed at him a long time with a rather discouraged look on her face.
“Land sakes!” she exclaimed at last with assumed weariness and a whimsical smile, “I didn’t know I’d ever come to this; but I guess I’ll have to marry you to keep you from makin’ another kind of fool of yourself; widowers are such helpless mortals, and you certainly do need a guardian.” She shook her head at him despondently.
Jonathan advanced towards her deliberately, and clinched the matter:
“Well, Hepsey, seein’ that we’re engaged––”
“Engaged? What do you mean? Get away, you––” She rose from her chair in a hurry. 237